


Night-time Secrets

by helsinkibaby



Category: Fringe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Het, Romance, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-19
Updated: 2009-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:48:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26413669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: Charlie gets woken in the middle of the night.
Relationships: Charlie Francis/Astrid Farnsworth





	Night-time Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> For the smallfandomflsh challenge #9 “secrets”

When he’s in the middle of a deep sleep and his phone rings, Charlie’s pretty sure it’s not going to be good news. When he see the luminous red “5:02” on the clock, sees “Broyles” on the caller ID, he knows for sure. Not once has this started off his day well, and it usually gets worse before it gets better.

Answering the call, hearing Broyles’ terse assessment of the situation, he knows that this is going to be, if not bad, then certainly ugly and he rubs his eyes with the thumb and forefinger of his free hand, hoping it will all be a dream.

Alas, however, it’s not to be, and he’s sitting at the edge of the bed, taking a second to wonder when the hell Homeland Security became all about this when he the light snaps on behind him.

“Should I start getting ready?”

He stands and turns, manages a ghost of a smile. “Broyles is calling Liv now,” he says. “She’ll get the Bishops on the way.” A shrug. “I figure you’ve got an hour before they call you.”

Astrid lifts an eyebrow. “How bad is it?”

“Broyles mentioned something about an apartment building filled with dead bodies covered with… well, I’m not sure what the hell they’re covered with.” He’s on his way to the wardrobe as he talks, today’s clothes hanging neatly on the door, but he stops and turns when he hears the bedclothes being tossed aside. He takes a moment to admire the view as Astrid stands, finds yesterday’s shirt on the floor where he’d – they’d? – tossed it before they’d tumbled into bed and pulls it on. She catches his eye, half glares at him when she works out what he’s doing, and he’s almost embarrassed.

Almost.

“Why’re you getting up?” he asks. “You’ve got another hour.” Lord knows, he’d much rather be in bed then going out to deal with this.

“Hell with that,” is Astrid’s succinct response. “If I’m going to spend the day with Walter rhapsodising about putrefied pestilence, then I’m having something to eat now.” Her nose wrinkles with distaste, and Charlie chuckles.

“You’re sure that’s a good idea?”

Her nose wrinkles again, and Charlie suddenly realises just how damn adorable that is. “Trust me,” she says, kissing him quickly before heading for the kitchen, “The alternative’s not worth it.”

“Fair enough,” he allows, dressing quickly. When he reaches the kitchen, there is the distinct smell of waffles toasting, and a cup of coffee is waiting by his coat. “You’re an angel,” he tells her, gulping it down. It’s the exact way he likes it, the exact right temperature to not scald his throat, and he realises that she’s had plenty of practice at this.

“And don’t worry,” she tells him, as if she’s having the same thoughts he is. “I promise to be appropriately sleepy sounding when Olivia calls me.”

He grins, takes an extra few seconds out of his morning to kiss her properly. “Your secret is safe with me.”  



End file.
